


Coral Bones

by dreamerfreak



Series: Something Rich and Strange [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Don't copy to another site, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scientist Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25095295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerfreak/pseuds/dreamerfreak
Summary: Almost three years after Victor and Yuuri escaped to Russia, they've made a new home in Hasetsu. But a name from the past might upset their happy ever after and Victor's new-built family.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: Something Rich and Strange [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618690
Comments: 38
Kudos: 129





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, but here it is! No CWs for this chapter.
> 
> Special thanks to [raedear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raedear/pseuds/raedear) and [Azraelyz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azraelyz/pseuds/Azraelyz) for alphaing and generally being amazingly supportive friends. 💖

_Japan_

It was almost summer, and the breeze from the ocean smelled like salt and fish and home. Victor was sitting on their bed with Yuuri cradled between his legs, the laptop screen in front of them gone dark. They had finished their weekend phone call with Yurio and Otabek and gotten distracted with kisses not long afterward.

“Mmm, I—” Yuuri started to say, but Victor sucked on his lower lip to stop him, fingers creeping further under his clothes. Yuuri pulled free with a quiet pop and stared up at Victor with a dazed expression. “They… they’re expecting us… soon. _Victor_.”

They ended up being a little late for supper with Yuuri’s parents, but no one minded or seemed that surprised. Now that Makkachin was almost two and a half years old and mostly grown out of her puppy stage, she was allowed to come along for longer visits. The walk over calmed her enough that she happily settled down under the table to sniff around for forgotten crumbs and beg for scraps.

It was good here, in Hasetsu. Yuuri had been worried when they first moved to Japan a few months ago, though he had tried to hide it from Victor. But Victor had been waiting for this, waiting for the chance to meet Yuuri’s family, ever since those long, lonely nights in the aquarium tank . He hadn’t been disappointed.

Mama Hiroko had given him the longest hug when they finally met in person. Victor had sobbed. Over two years since he had left the tank behind, but he still felt every touch so dearly. He never wanted to take for granted the peace that another person’s kind touch could bring. Papa Toshiya gave him chores around the onsen, even when Victor was mostly terrible at them, and gave him long, rambling monologues of life advice and Yuuri stories that Victor treasured. Even Mari, who had been wary of Victor in their first video chats years ago, teased and ruffled his hair and seemed to always know when Victor needed a quiet moment to himself.

He finally had a family to call his own, thanks to Yuuri.

They had barely started on the meal when Yuuri made a quiet sound and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Victor didn’t pay it any mind, expecting Yuuri to silence it—no one interrupted katsudon—but Yuuri frowned and excused himself instead.

He stared after Yuuri as he went out into the hall to answer the call, concerned. It wasn’t like Yuuri to interrupt family time for a call, which meant it had to be something important, but Victor couldn’t remember him mentioning anything like that. He forced a smile and turned back to the table when Mama Hiroko asked a question, pushing it from his mind for the moment. His Japanese was still rough, and it took concentration to keep up with the Katsukis’ conversations.

When Yuuri came back, he was frowning even deeper, his brow crinkling. He apologized for the call and waved away any concerns, but Victor scooted a couple inches closer until their legs brushed under the table. Whatever was bothering him, Victor would get it out of him once they were back home.

Yuuri rejoined the banter at the table and ate his bowl of katsudon, but Victor could tell it was forced. Judging by the looks Mari was giving him, Victor wasn’t the only one who had noticed something was wrong. She shooed them out of the onsen earlier than usual, tugging Victor aside for a moment to say, “If there’s anything I need to know…” Victor nodded reassuringly, already changing into his street shoes and clipping the leash on Makkachin, who was dancing with excitement at the prospect of the walk home.

It was a quiet walk, and felt far longer than usual. Makkachin wasn’t quite as rambunctious as usual, seeming to have caught on to her owners’ moods. By the time they made it back to their own little house, Makkachin was pressing up close to Victor’s legs and whining softly and Yuuri had yet to say anything more than the occasional soft “hmm” in response to Victor’s questions.

It was a relief to close the door behind them and slip on their house slippers. Makkachin went bounding toward her bed and began aggressively chewing a squeaky toy.

“Yuuri?” Victor asked quietly, trailing behind him as he made his way to the couch and slumped down onto it. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled in response, pulling his phone out to fiddle with it. Victor sat next to him and pulled Yuuri into his arms.

“Who called earlier?” he tried, nuzzling into Yuuri’s hair. It was fluffy and soft and smelled like the green tea shampoo he had used this morning and a little bit like salt water from the aquarium.

“Phichit.”

Victor stiffened, then pulled Yuuri in even tighter. Phichit never called. Or almost never. He texted constantly and emailed often. But calling? It was almost unheard of. If Phichit had called, it had to have been about something really important, and if it was something important, then it was probably about… Victor.

“Why was he calling?” he managed to squeeze out, heart catching in his throat. Had something gone wrong? Had someone finally found them? Maybe coming to Japan had been a mistake.

Yuuri squirmed in his arms until he could face Victor, cupping his face and looking him in the eye. “It’s nothing bad, Victor. It’s not. I’m sorry.” But even as he said that, his eyes were pinched in worry.

Victor let his forehead thump gently down against Yuuri’s. “Yuuri…” They spoke English at home most of the time, a familiar common ground for them and the easiest for them to communicate with, but sometimes Victor felt lost for words anyway. Though he wasn’t sure Russian would be any better right now. “What is it? Please just tell me.”

“He said… he said he found some information. About you.”

Victor nodded and waited while Yuuri found the words to continue.

“About… who you might have been. Before.” 

“Before?” It took Victor a moment to process the meaning of that, even as he mindlessly parroted the word back to Yuuri. Before? Before… NuHuman? Before he had been changed?

“It’s just a name, but he thinks they might have known you… before .”

“But…” Victor didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to think. He stared helplessly at Yuuri, hoping for some kind of guidance. _Before?_

“We don’t have to do anything!” Yuuri hurried to say. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to meet them or talk to them or even talk _about_ them again. But if you do…” Yuuri trailed off, his eyes drifting to the side, away from Victor.

Victor gnawed on his lower lip and considered. “Do you… not want me to?” he asked hesitantly, not sure what answer he wanted to hear.

“No!” Yuuri’s answer startled Victor with its ferocity, and he leaned back. Yuuri’s eyes were wide and… scared, Victor thought, but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath and carefully took Victor’s hands in his own. “No, Victor. You can choose to meet them or not, and I will be beside you all the way. I promise.”

Victor nodded cautiously and squeezed Yuuri’s hands, twining the cold fingers with his own. “Can I… think about it first?”

Smiling softly, Yuuri squeezed back and tugged Victor closer with his grip. “Of course. Take as long as you want, okay? And if you want to talk about it or have any questions, I’m right here. Or Phichit, of course.” Yuuri’s eyes searched Victor’s face, looking for something, but Victor wasn’t sure what he sought. He felt too stunned to try to give Yuuri anything other than bare truth.

Whatever he was looking for, he found something that satisfied him, because he pulled Victor close and gave him a soft kiss. “I love you,” he whispered, and Victor murmured the heartfelt words back.

~*~

Victor didn’t sleep well that night. Long after Yuuri had slipped into slumber, face mashed into Victor’s chest, Victor laid there and stared up at the drifting lights on the ceiling. He combed his fingers through Yuuri’s hair with slow measured beats, knowing from experience that this wouldn’t wake him now that he had settled firmly into sleep. It was soothing. It reminded Victor again that he wasn’t alone, not anymore.

Life had just settled down, finally, into something quiet and, he had thought, permanent. Yuuri had his job at the aquarium. It made him happy; Victor knew from the way he came home smiling and how he chatted as they cooked supper together, telling him about the latest antics of their pair of penguins and what mess the triplets had gotten into at school. Just a couple of weeks ago, Victor had found a part-time job at one of the local shops, stocking the shelves and straightening and cleaning. It might not have been quite as fun as his work back at the boutique in Russia, but it was satisfying in its own quiet way, and visitors were always charmed to see the foreigner practicing his Japanese.

And Yuuri’s family. Victor had loved them from the start, from the very first video call. They had never questioned Yuuri’s choice in loving him, even when Yuuri had revealed everything about Victor’s past and how they had met . But meeting them in person, finally, was a whole new level of love. Mama Hiroko’s hug left him speechless and warm and connected in a way that not even Yuuri had managed. Welcomed into the Katsuki household, he felt like he had a true family for the first time. And he and Yuuri were so happy.

But now… This person… Were they actually his family? Would this new person want to take him away from the family he had worked so hard to find?

Against his side, Yuuri whimpered and shifted restlessly, and Victor realized that his soft combing had turned to a clench. He relaxed his fingers and smoothed Yuuri’s hair until his frown faded and he softened back into sleep. 

It didn’t matter, Victor decided abruptly. It didn’t matter who this new person was or what claim they thought they had on him. He wasn’t leaving his Yuuri. He had fought to become his own person after so many years of being nothing, and he wouldn’t let them take that away. 

~*~

The next morning, Victor struggled to get out of bed. Yuuri left early after leaving him with a mug of coffee on the nightstand and a kiss on his forehead, but Victor wallowed in bed for most of the morning. Even after he had made his resolution, he had struggled to fall asleep, only managing it in the wee hours of the morning.

Eventually he forced himself out of bed in order to eat a little something and take Makka out for a long walk around town and down to the beach. He wasn’t scheduled to go in to the shop today, so he had the whole day to himself until Yuuri came home. Makka was gleeful to be out and about, tugging him from one side of the street to the other and greeting everyone who was out on errands in the spring air. By the time the made it to the beach, Victor was starting to get breathless and gladly let Makka off the leash to run and chase seagulls.

Despite the nice weather, not many people were on the beach this afternoon, the weather perhaps still a little too chilly to bring people out. But that suited Victor’s mood just fine, and he took a seat on the sea wall to watch the waves and Makkachin’s boundless exuberance for playing in the sand.

Even Makkachin grew tired after a while, and they headed home at a slow pace, Victor not in any rush to get back. It was harder to avoid his worries without the sound of the ocean in his ears.

Cooking was still not Victor’s strong suit. He always managed to burn things or leave them undercooked, and so he rarely worked in the kitchen without Yuuri’s supervision. Back at home, with Makka napping in the corner on her bed, he instead picked up the book he was working on now, an English story for kids. Between his years of illiteracy and a whole new alphabet, reading in English was still difficult for him, and it would probably never be easy according to the research that Yuuri had done. It frustrated him often, although at least he was passable in Russian. But it took lots of focus, and right now he appreciated the distraction that it provided his too-busy brain.

He had muddled through four chapters by the time Yuuri made it home, entering with a soft “tadaima.” Victor hastily maneuvered himself out from underneath Makka, who had joined him at some point, to greet Yuuri just inside the entrance, flopping into his arms and burying his face in his neck.

“Hey,” Yuuri said, sounding a little surprised, but easily taking Victor’s weight even as he slipped out of his shoes and walked them back toward the couch. “Rough day?”

Victor just grunted, and Yuuri held him close, peppering soft kisses across his hair and rubbing his back until Victor felt a little calmer. He shifted until he could see Yuuri’s face, and Yuuri pulled a blanket down to wrap them up in, both of them sighing quietly.

“Tell me about it?” Yuuri asked eventually. “Is this about yesterday?”

Victor nodded and swallowed, then finally said, “I don’t want them to take me away from you.” It felt like pulling out a chunk of his heart, his chest gaping open a little after that confession. It didn’t even make sense, he knew. Victor was grown and could make his own choices. But somehow… Somehow he was frightened that it was true, that he would be stolen away from Yuuri and the happiness he had made here.

Yuuri teared up and Victor felt a trill of panic. But Yuuri only squeezed Victor harder and shook his head. “No! No, they’re not going to take you away. No matter what happens or what choice you make, they’ll never take you away again. It’s… it’s always your choice now, Victor. Remember that.”

Nodding into Yuuri’s chest, Victor tried to dismiss his panic. It helped, hearing Yuuri remind him of these things, but there was still a creeping doubt in the corners of his mind.

“I’m so sorry…”

Victor looked up at the softly whispered words. “Yuuri?”

He shook his head. “I… I should have found a better way to tell you or… I—”

It was Victor’s turn to comfort, it seemed, and he gladly obliged, sitting up to place gentle kisses on Yuuri’s face and murmur reassurances. “…nothing wrong. You did everything right, Yuuri, you always do everything right, and you know I love you, so much, and…” 

“Sorry,” Yuuri said again a few minutes later, but he was calmer this time. “I shouldn’t be freaking out right now.”

Mutely, Victor shook his head.

“I think,” he continued. “I think you should… found out more information. That’s… that should be safe. You might have people in your past, who care about you. And if you decide you don’t want anything to do with them after that, or if you meet them and they’re awful, then we never have to think about them again. They can go rot. Phichit will make sure they can’t get to us.”

Victor met Yuuri’s gaze, hesitant in the offering but sure of his ideas, and he thought about it. He trusted Yuuri. He trusted him to know more of the world when Victor still sometimes struggled. He trusted him to always have Victor’s best interests at heart. And he trusted that Yuuri would never make him do something he didn’t want to.

It felt right, this solution. Yuuri was right. Finding out a little more information wouldn’t hurt him. And if they seemed safe, then they could think about maybe meeting this person. One step at a time.

Victor nodded firmly. “Okay. Let’s call Phichit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this glimpse into Victor and Yuuri's future! And Victor's past. This will be a gentle ride this time. Sorry that I haven't gotten around to comments from Sea Change yet; it's been a little crazy the past couple of weeks. As always, thanks for the support and encouragement! Feel free to chat with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/lexical_dreamer)!
> 
> See you next Monday for chapter two! 💖💖


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: none.
> 
> So, on the last chapter, I said something about this fic being a gentle ride... and I _may_ have forgotten how emotional this chapter is, because boy did I cry while editing. Um, sorry in advance? No cliffhangers though!

_Russia_

Yurio and Otabek’s apartment hadn’t changed much since they had last seen it a few months ago, when they had stayed in the guest bedroom the night before their flight to Japan, the keys for their apartment a floor up already turned in and only two suitcases of belongings still with them. Victor thought he caught sight of a new, unfamiliar cat out of the corner of his eye, but it disappeared into one of the bedrooms before he could be sure.

It had been three weeks since the phone call with Phichit. He hadn’t had much information to give them. Just a name, Yakov Feltsman, and some basic information. He was a retired scientist, but had never worked with NuHuman Group, or even in the biology field. Alone, no partner or children. He had a couple of nieces and nephews, but no one he seemed especially close with. Just a lonely old man in St. Petersburg. All Phichit really knew was that a child in his care, with silvery hair and blue eyes, had disappeared one morning and never been seen again.

“So you’re going just show up at this Feltsman’s place and, what? Accuse him of selling you to science or some shit?” Yurio flopped onto the couch with a grunt, and a cat immediately found its way into his lap, purring like that silver Mitsubishi Victor so admired that occasionally drove around town .

“No, of course not,” Yuuri said, the voice of reason. “We’re just planning on asking him for information about the boy that disappeared. It’s been decades, he probably won’t recognize Victor.”

“You don’t think he’s going to wonder _why_ someone’s showing up asking questions?”

Yuuri glanced at Victor and back to Yurio before answering. “We’ll just have to see how it goes. It’s… kind of a hard situation to predict.”

Otabek exited the kitchen with a plate of snacks and an armful of bottled drinks. “Don’t be so hostile, Yura. This is hard enough.” He deposited everything on the small coffee table and sat down next to Yurio, planting a quiet kiss on his forehead. Yurio didn’t even pretend to be upset about it.

Victor sat across from the couple and snagged a bottle of water from the pile, gulping half of it down in one go. His nerves hadn’t fully settled since the day Yuuri told him the news, but they had at least gotten down to a reasonable level. But now, only one day away, his stomach felt tight and crampy and his extremities jittery. Yuuri had been watching him worriedly since they had left Hasetsu yesterday, alternately giving him space and trying to soothe him with touch like a twitchy animal. Neither approach seemed to be working.

Now though, Yuuri squeezed himself into the armchair with Victor, snuggling close and smoothing his hair back behind his ear. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered, only loud enough for Victor to hear. He nodded, but he wasn’t sure if he believed it. There were too many unknowns in this puzzle, too many things that could go wrong. Somehow.

“You haven’t called ahead, right?” Otabek interjected softly, and Yuuri shook his head.

“Phichit recommended not doing that. If Feltsman _does_ have something to do with NuHuman… Well, he might disappear and then we’d never get any answers.”

Propping his socked feet up on the coffee table, Yurio focused on giving the cat much-appreciated ear scratches. “This is safe, right? Or should we tag along? I’ll fuck him up if he does anything.”

“He’s pretty old. I don’t think we have to worry about him attacking us or anything.”

As the conversation continued, Victor leaned into Yuuri, letting his weight sink into the cushions and his eyes drift closed. The stress of the last weeks and the long flight were finally catching up to him. And Yuuri was warm and soft in all the right places , sprawled half in his lap and holding him tight. He didn’t want to worry about this anymore, not for a little while at least. By tomorrow this time it would all be over.

He didn’t remember Yuuri pulling the water bottle from his hand before he spilled it all over them, but he woke up long enough to stumble into the guest room and strip off his pants with Yuuri’s help before falling soundly asleep under the covers.

~*~

He woke up the next morning to the sound of grumpy Russian and the smell of eggs. Yuuri was already gone from the bed, even though he wasn’t usually an early riser when he didn’t have to be. Victor was curled around the empty spot where Yuuri had slept, clutching the pillow he had left behind. He cracked open his eyes long enough to squint blearily around, then buried his face back in the pillow when he didn’t spot an immediate reason to get up.

Not long after, the door creaked open and the smell of black tea drifted in. A hand patted his head gently, and Victor nuzzled into it with a groan. “Come back to bed, Yuuri?”

The bed sank as Yuuri sat down, and Victor let himself roll toward Yuuri. “Sorry, Victor. We have things to do today, remember?”

Victor crawled halfway into Yuuri’s lap, pushing his face up against the soft T-shirt-covered belly that presented itself so conveniently to him. “Don’t wanna,” he muttered, still refusing to open his eyes. 

There was a clink as mugs were set on the bedside table, and then gentle fingers stroked through his hair. “If you really don’t want to…” Yuuri trailed off uncertainly.

Victor took a moment to consider it. Feltsman wasn’t expecting them; they could go back to Japan and nothing would change. He huffed and shook his head. If they did they, he would wonder what they could have found out, like an itch in the back of his brain that couldn’t be scratched. It was best to get this over with now, while they were here. He couldn’t let his nerves ruin their plans now.

“No?” Yuuri questioned, and Victor reluctantly sat up.

“We’ll do it,” he confirmed quietly and reached for the mug of black tea. Mmm, still hot despite his delaying tactics, and sweetened with jam. Lovely.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Yurio looked upset about something, but he was keeping his peace for the moment and Victor didn’t feel like meddling today. If it had anything to do with them, he would let them know sooner rather than later. They planned on going over to Feltsman’s apartment in the afternoon, when he would hopefully be home and willing to talk. That left them far too many hours to fill in the meantime.

Otabek went to work after breakfast, which left them alone in the apartment with an increasingly volatile Yurio. He had the day off from his job, but he was the opposite of a good host, pacing restlessly through the apartment and banging doors. Yuuri settled on the couch with some work reading he had brought with him, but Victor was trying to be sociable. He wasn’t making much headway even as he slumped into a chair at the kitchen table and watched Yurio slam through the cabinets in search for a missing ingredient for his grandfather’s famous pirozhki that he was making.

“Do you want any help?” Victor offered tentatively, switching back to the dubious comfort of Russian, since Yuuri was in the other room.

Yurio didn’t even bother giving him a glare, smacking a jar of spice down on the counter with such violence that Victor thought it might shatter. “No.”

Sighing, Victor collapsed a little deeper into his seat, watching listlessly as the angry cooking continued. Eventually he spoke up again. “Is something wrong, Yurio?”

He slammed a metal bowl down with such force that Victor could feel the vibration in his eardrums. He made the wise decision to ask no more questions for the time being.

By the time lunch was ready and Yuuri had joined them at the table, Yurio’s mood hadn’t improved. Though he had stopped trying to break kitchenware, he only responded in grunts to anything Yuuri directed at him—and after Otabek, Yuuri was usually the number one person who could get Yurio to calm down and talk. Instead, lunch was a tense and quiet affair, interrupted only by the sounds of chewing and silverware.

It wasn’t until after the table was cleared up and Victor and Yuuri were getting ready to leave that he spoke up. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?” It was muttered so quietly that Victor almost missed it, but Yuuri turned toward Yurio immediately, concern in his eyes.

“We’ll be okay, Yurio. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Yurio lifted his gaze from the floor to glare at them both. “He could be a fucking psycho! You don’t know anything about him.” He crossed his arms and waited defiantly for an answer.

Yuuri just shrugged. “I know he’s in his 70s. Surely Victor and I can fight him off if it comes down to that.”

The way that Yurio continued to glare indicated that he wasn’t impressed with this line of reasoning.

Closing the gap between them, Yuuri laid his hand on Yurio’s arm. “If anything seems suspicious, we’ll get out of there right away. And we’ll call, as soon as we’re done. Or if we have any trouble. But this is something that we need to do alone.”

Yurio huffed and let his gaze drop to the side, giving in but clearly not happy about it. “You better not fucking forget to call.”

Smiling again, Yuuri nodded, and they were finally on their way.

~*~

The ride there felt much longer than Victor knew it actually was. They had opted for a taxi rather than navigating the public transport system today. They could afford the expense, and the less time this whole venture took the better. Yuuri held his hand the whole way, ignoring the glances the driver gave them, but didn’t try to make conversation. Victor was glad. He wasn’t sure what he would be able to say right now.

The apartment building was an aged brick building only a few stories tall, and Victor examined it carefully as Yuuri paid the driver, as if he could discern something about one specific resident by its bland exterior. Yuuri tugged his arm gently to get him moving again.

It didn’t take much to gain entrance, and soon they were standing in front of the appropriate apartment, waiting to knock. Yuuri looked at Victor expectantly, speaking to him for the first time since they had left Yurio’s place. “Do you want me to…?”

Victor shook his head, but it still took him another minute to gather the courage to put fist to wood. The first time, it was such a gentle tap that Victor felt a tiny bit embarrassed, and he cleared his throat before trying again, this time a firm three raps.

From inside the apartment, Victor could hear some shuffling and a grumpy voice, though he couldn’t make out any words. A few moments later, locks clicked and the door creaked open a measly two inches, a craggy face shoving into the gap to peer out at them suspiciously.

“What do you want?” he demanded in Russian, but before Victor could work up a reply, his face sagged into something softer, and he murmured, “Dima.”

The door slammed shut abruptly, and Victor turned to look at Yuuri with wide eyes. Before he could work up to a panic, the door flung open again, and Feltsman stood there, staring at Victor with a look of shock and sadness. “Dima,” he said again, and this time something that might have been tears glimmered in his eyes.

~*~

A few minutes later they were settled on a shabby couch with mugs of tea. Victor desperately wanted to hold Yuuri’s hand, but part of him was scared of how the man sitting across from them would react. Instead he gripped the mug so tightly his fingertips started going numb. Even though Feltsman had busied himself with inviting them in and making tea, he still seemed to be in shock, and his hands shook a bit as he picked up his own cup.

Feeling a little desperate, Victor turned to Yuuri, pleading with his eyes for him to say something. Victor had so many questions—the older man clearly recognized him—but he couldn’t squeeze out the words. Thank God his Russian was nearly as good as Victor’s own by now. Yuuri seemed to get the message and nodded slightly before facing forward, back straight and stiff.

“Mr. Feltsman, my name is Yuuri Katsuki and this is Victor… although maybe you know him by a different name? We were hoping to ask you some questions.”

Feltsman nodded and set his tea back down on the table without having drunk any of it. “Yes. Dima…” His gaze flitted around the room, from Victor to the table to Yuuri to the pictures on the wall and back to Victor. Always back to Victor. “Dima… Dmitry , he, you…” He trailed off, his eyes finally settling firmly on Victor. “It’s really you?”

“I… I don’t…” Victor trembled. He shook his head in confusion, but his hands twitched and his stomach quivered and his mind fought to concentrate on what was happening. “Maybe,” he managed to choke out.

“Victor doesn’t remember anything from… from his childhood,” Yuuri said quietly. “We were told that you might have some more information.”

“You look like my Dima,” Feltsman said finally. “He had such bright blue eyes. And that hair… it was so fair. They said it would get darker, when you got older but I guess it never did. Like moonlight Angelina said. Her moonlit baby boy.”

Victor let his head tip forward and his hair tumble to cover his left eye. He thought it was more gray than moonlight and was slightly embarrassed by it at times, if he was being honest. I didn’t help when Yurio called him old man and teased about his high forehead. Yuuri had speculated whether it was a side effect of one of his changes, but apparently it was all natural.

“Who’s Angelina?” Yuuri’s voice was quiet, but it was enough to pull Victor and Mr. Feltsman out of their reveries.

“My sister. Angelina was… my sister,” Feltsman said with a sadness that was impossible to mistake. “She died when Dima—you—were only three , and you came to live with me. I promised—” He broke off and covered his face with one hand, trying to regain his crumbling composure. Victor stared down into the dark swirls of his cooling tea. “I promised to keep you safe. I’m sorry.”

“And the police, they were never able to figure out what happened?”

Feltsman shook his head slowly. “No. There wasn’t any hint of what happened. I left Dima at the house for a few minutes to go to the store—” He glanced up at Victor and nodded. “You were a good child, not like those neighborhood boys. Always so happy and good, even if you couldn’t stop asking questions. I—I had done it before, gone to the store for something, just a quick trip. But when I came back that time… Dima was gone. The door was still locked, and nothing had been upset. Dima was just gone.”

It was quiet for a minute, a feeling of grief hanging heavy in the air. Victor sipped at his mostly cooled tea without tasting it, still unsure of what to say, but he felt like he had to try.

“I— Dima— How… old was I… when it happened?” He never looked up from his tea even as he forced out the words.

“Six,” he said simply. “Only six.”

The silence dragged on longer this time, everyone staring down into cups or off at blank walls, until Feltsman cleared his throat and began again. “What… where did you end up? Were you… okay ?”

Victor curled in on himself self-consciously. That was a question he still sometimes asked himself. Was he okay? Maybe not, but he was getting there. He peeked at Yuuri and nodded to let him know that he could speak for him.

Yuuri turned his mug in his hands anxiously, but he spoke clearly nonetheless. “Victor was taken by a group called NuHuman Research. They… experimented on him for about twenty years. He ended up at Selma Corp, and I was hired not long after that to take care of him. When I realized that he wasn’t… that…” Yuuri hesitated, glancing over at Victor. They hadn’t planned on mentioning the whole “merman” thing, but it was a little difficult to explain why Victor wasn’t considered human without that part. “Well, as soon as I was put in charge of his care, I realized that I had to get Victor out of there. It took a few weeks to arrange, but we got him out of there. That was two years ago, now.”

Feltsman was frowning down at his hands, the fingers tapping restlessly at the ceramic of his mug. “NuHuman,” he muttered. “NuHuman… Lilia?”

Victor sat straighter, even as Yuuri asked, “You know Lilia Baranovskaya?”

“I… yes. Lilia. She was…” Feltsman hesitated, a faint flush brightening his pallor momentarily. “We knew each other back then. But things fell apart after Dima disappeared. After a couple of months, we lost contact. She started working for some research place based out of the States. I don’t know for sure…” He shook his head, his frown sagging into something softer and sadder. “She took blood samples a couple of weeks before Dima disappeared. From all of us. It was some project she was doing, but she said it was just for a control group, something to compare the test subjects to. I shouldn’t have… I should have known better. I never realized …”

His mug hit the table with a thunk, and then he was crying silently, his face hidden behind his hands and his shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry, Dima, so sorry,” could be barely heard underneath the raspy breathing.

Victor felt his own breathing speed up unpleasantly, a panicky grief tackling him. This old man crying before him was his uncle, and he was heartbroken for somehow failing to keep Dima safe. Part of Victor was drawn to him, and the other part didn’t know how to integrate the “Dima” that he used to be with the Victor he was now.

Yuuri set his cup down gently on the table, cleared his throat, and murmured. “Maybe we should be going for today.”

Feltsman coughed and brushed fruitlessly at his face. “Sorry, I—”

“We can come back another day… if everyone wants that,” Yuuri continued softly. He stood up and reached for Victor’s nearly untouched mug, setting it aside before helping him out of the chair. “It’s been a rough day for everyone, Mr. Feltsman.”

He nodded slowly, looking lost. “Yakov… Call me Yakov, please.”

Yuuri tipped his chin in acknowledgment, and Feltsman stood up to walk them to the door in silence. Victor stopped there, hesitating when Yuuri tried to lead him over the threshold. He turned to the old man and met his eyes for the first time. “It was nice to meet you… Yakov.”

Tears started in the old man’s eyes again, but he blinked rapidly and held out a hand. “It… was nice to meet you too… Vitya.”

Victor felt his eyes go wide, and he let Yuuri gently tug him out the door before he could start crying too.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked as soon as the door shut behind them, pulling him to a stop in the middle of the hallway and drawing him into a hug. “Victor?”

“He called me Vitya,” was all he could say, and he felt the tears coming now and he didn’t think he would be able to stop them. “He called me Vitya,” he said again, and he buried his face in the crook of Yuuri’s neck and let it overwhelm him .

~*~

They were both a mess by the time they made it out of the apartment building, and yet another surprise was waiting for them there. On the concrete steps, dressed in far too much leopard print for Victor’s sensibilities, sat Yurio. He surged to his feet as they exited the building, scowl at the ready. “What the fuck took you so long? My butt’s going numb!” His eyes narrowed further as he took in their soggy appearance. “Do I need to go up there and fuck him up? I will, I—” 

“It’s fine, Yuri,” Yuuri soothed, even though his voice was rough from a few tears of his own. “It was just a hard conversation.”

Yurio glared at them and eventually turned away with a stubborn pout when neither of them caved. “Fine. Let’s just go the fuck home.” Yurio started tapping at his phone, and a taxi pulled up shortly after.

The ride back to the apartment was quiet, but in an exhausted sort of way. Victor let himself lean into Yuuri and ignored whatever reaction the driver might have had. He needed the comfort right now. Yuuri wrapped an arm around him and pulled his head down onto his shoulder to let him hide there. When they arrived, Yuuri gently ushered him out of the car, leaving Yurio behind them to pay as they headed inside immediately. It wasn’t even time for supper yet, but Victor already felt like he could crash and sleep for hours. He had known, logically, that this meeting would be difficult, but he hadn’t expected it to leave him drained like this. He whined incomprehensibly when Yuuri deposited him on the couch, having somehow missed the entire trip from the lobby to the living room. He didn’t want to be left alone.

Yuuri only left him long enough to grab a blanket from somewhere, though, and then he was back, tucking them both in under the warmth and snuggling him close. Victor drifted off almost immediately to his murmured Japanese endearments.

~*~

Yuuri shook him awake gently when it was time for supper. Victor still felt hazy as he allowed Yuuri to pull him toward the kitchen table and serve up a plate for him. It was a quiet meal, and Victor was grateful that no one bothered him with questions as he poked at his food, occasionally pushing one tasteless bite into his mouth. Across the table, Yurio and Otabek murmured softly to each other, but it was easy to ignore. Yuuri’s hand rested on his thigh the whole time, even though it meant he ate awkwardly with his left hand. 

Eventually, Yurio broke the silence. “So? Are you going to tell us anything?”

Yuuri took over when Victor didn’t reply, and he spent a few minutes describing the visit, the things that Feltsman had told them. Victor tuned it out and focused on trying to eat. He had noticed the worried glances that Yuuri had been giving him. He just didn’t feel very hungry. It was all so very overwhelming.

It was only when he heard the words “stay here for a while” that he jerked back to attention. Victor turned to look at Yuuri with wide eyes. “Stay?” he whispered.

Yuuri turned to him, ignoring the looks that Yurio and Otabek were giving them, and grasped Victor’s hand in both of his. “If you want to? He’s your family, Victor. He probably has stories about your mother, your past.” Yuuri squeezed harder for a moment. “I would have to go back to Japan, of course. I can’t take much more time off work, but I’m sure you could stay here with—”

“You want me to stay, Yuuri? Without you?” Without meaning to, Victor could feel tears welling up in his eyes again. Did Yuuri really want him to stay here? Had he just been waiting for someone to step forward, to claim him, so that he could go back to his life ? A tight, clenching pain was welling up in his chest, and he dropped his fork to grab at Yuuri’s hands. “Yuuri leave ?”

There was a muttered curse from the other side of the table, but Victor barely noticed Yurio stomping out of the room, followed closely by Otabek. His attention was riveted on Yuuri’s dismayed face, the strange sadness in his eyes.

“No, Victor, I… I don’t _want_ to leave you here.” Yuuri dropped his gaze and stared down at their entwined fingers, tugging gently but not pulling away. “But family… Family is _important_. I don’t want you to miss out on that just… just because of me. If you want to stay…” Yuuri finally looked up, and he was starting to cry now too. “I will support you. And I’ll be waiting—” He choked and swallowed hard, but whatever he wanted to say next, Victor didn’t wait for.

He pulled their hands apart so that he could throw his arms around Yuuri, nearly pulling them both out of their chairs and onto the floor before Yuuri managed to stabilize them. “Have family. I have Yuuri family. Yuuri’s family. My family.” He was stumbling over words, the order of them escaping him, but he didn’t care, this was too important. He pressed his face into the skin of Yuuri’s shoulder, breathing deeply the familiar scent of seawater that seemed to cling to him even here. “Don’t leave me.”

Yuuri’s arms finally wrapped around him as well, warm and soothing like always. “You’re right, Victor. We already have a family, don’t we.” Yuuri snuffled right next to his ear, but Victor didn’t mind. “If you want to make it bigger, we can do it together, right?”

Victor nodded frantically, words gone entirely after his moment of panic. Family was good and important, the family he had found with the Katsukis and this tentative maybe start of another one, but without Yuuri… Yuuri was more than just family. He was Victor’s heart, and he never wanted to let him go. Quietly, muffled by the fact that he was still nuzzling into Yuuri’s neck, he said, “Love you,” and Yuuri hummed and snuggled closer and said, “Love you too.”

~*~

The next day, they called Yakov and visited one more time. Every time he called Victor “Vitya” something in his chest went a little tight, in a good way. They exchanged numbers and addresses and promised to keep in touch. And then they went back home.

To Hasetsu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. We all knew it wasn't gonna be pretty, but we're almost settled. One more chapter left! Thank you for reading!! 💖


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: sugary-sweet sapiness. :D

_Japan_

Three months after first meeting his long-lost uncle Yakov, Victor still felt his heart crack when he heard that grizzled voice call him “Vitya.” They said their goodbyes on their weekly call and Victor set his phone down delicately, feeling a little fragile still. Something about the old man, about the gruff care he showed and the way he always remembered to call him Victor even when they tentatively talked about the past, made him feel vulnerable, but not in a bad way. It took him a few minutes to gather himself together again afterward, and he was glad that Yuuri wasn’t home yet.

He stayed on the couch for a while longer, just breathing and thinking, until Makka nosed up to him and whined, begging to be taken out. Victor smiled, feeling that open place in his chest close back over again, and ruffled her fluffy ears. A glance at the clock told him they had enough time for a walk around the block before Yuuri came back, so he grabbed her leash and a bag on the way to the door, baby-talking at her the whole way.

Makkachin could almost always lift his mood, even when the world got too big again and he didn’t want to leave their bedroom and not even Yuuri’s soft encouragement could move him. Makkachin would lie and snuggle with him and he could whisper his fears about the big, bad world, and she would do nothing but lick his nose in response. Victor knew, he _did_ , that he could talk to Yuuri when he got like that, that he could confess how he sometimes missed being alone in his tank or how sometimes he never wanted to smell saltwater again. How sometimes he is so torn between the two that he can’t make any decisions, even the one to get out of bed. But Yuuri never pushed him. He would kiss his forehead and murmur endearments and make sure there was a bottle of water on the bedside table and that Makka had been fed and walked so that she wouldn’t get too restless, and he would go to work. And by the time he got back home, Victor would be up and better. One day, he thought, as he let Makkachin drag him off the sidewalk and into the grass, he would be ready to whisper those fears to Yuuri. One day soon, even. But not quite yet.

Back home again, Victor played tug with Makka for a few minutes before letting her “win” and heading to the kitchen to start something for supper. He had only just started looking through cabinets, however, when he heard the door open and Makka scramble across the floor with a whining bark, already begging for more attention. “Tadaima!” Yuuri called, and Victor leaned out of the kitchen doorway to smile at the pair, Makka wiggling around on her back, delighting in the belly rubs that Yuuri was providing.

“Okaeri,” he said, softly enough that it was probably lost under the sounds of Makka and Yuuri playing in the doorway. It was one of many small things he loved about Japan and Yuuri’s home, the habit of always greeting each other when one came home. It reminded him of his time back in the research facility, waiting anxiously every morning for Yuuri to arrive, that spark of happy in his chest when Yuuri smiled up at him, hesitant at first but growing more confident, and telling him good morning. 

Finally, Makka calmed down long enough to let Yuuri change from his shoes to his house slippers and he stepped into the house proper, bringing his bag and a box with him. Victor padded closer and pulled Yuuri into a hug, nestling his nose into Yuuri’s messy hair and breathing in the scent of saltwater that was comforting today and letting that last bit of tension go.

Yuuri squeezed him tightly in return, but pulled away too soon in Victor’s opinion. He let his bag drop to the floor with less care than he usually took, but cradled the white box in both arms. Victor didn’t remember seeing the box before and eyed it curiously. When he looked back up at Yuuri’s face, it was to see him blushing.

“Um… I got you a present.”

Victor resisted the urge to bounce on his toes as he beamed. “Yuuuuriiii! You shouldn’t have!” he said, although he didn’t mean it in the slightest. Getting a present from Yuuri was always a special treat.

Yuuri didn’t pass over the box, however, seeming to clutch it even tighter to his chest. “I… Maybe I shouldn’t,” he finally said quietly, blushing darker and not meeting Victor’s eyes. “This wasn’t a good idea, I—”

“No!” Victor said, closing the gap that had sprung up between them. “I love everything you get me, Yuuri, because it’s from you.” He wrapped his arms around Yuuri and the box and applied his best puppy eyes, learned from Makkachin. “Pleeaase?” he wheedled.

Yuuri stared at Victor for a long moment, then nodded firmly, something determined and heated sparking in his eyes. He pushed the box into Victor’s chest. “Then open it. Please.”

The edges of the box were neatly taped to keep it shut, and Victor carefully peeled it up, wanting to preserve the box as much as possible. This present was clearly more important to Yuuri than any of the other offhand gifts he had brought home before. Whatever it was, Victor was determined to treasure it.

It sparkled when he opened it, catching the light and glistening, and for a minute Victor couldn’t even decipher what it was, only that it was bright and delicate and pretty. Two long tubes curved gently in the soft packing material, a finely woven structure of glass with strange spirals curling up the outside surface. He was afraid to touch it, afraid that it would shatter at a breath, it looked so fragile.

Yuuri didn’t have these worries, clearly, as he reached in the box and lifted one of the tubes without hesitation, cradling it in his palm and offering it up to Victor. “It’s a euplectella aspergillum sponge skeleton,” he said softly, as Victor haltingly reached out to feel the tiny delicate spines and curves of it. “It’s a glass sponge, um, Venus’ flower basket. It’s considered a symbol of eternal love because… well, that story isn’t the nicest,” he said awkwardly, scratching his still blushing nose with his free hand. “People give it as, uh, a wedding present. I probably… I mean, I should have, uh…” 

In his chest, Victor’s heart was thumping far too fast and his breath felt rapid and shallow . He could remember vividly the wedding reception at the onsen last fall, peeking through the door of the banquet room and getting shooed away from the guests by Mama Hiroko. The beautiful clothes of the bride and groom, the soft looks they gave as they ignored their guests. Had they had a gift like this in the boxes they received that day?

Carefully, with hands that were definitely _not_ shaking, he took the sponge skeleton—and wasn’t that strange and beautiful?—and set it back in the box. Then he yanked Yuuri as close as he could get him and mashed their lips together in an awkward, delightful kiss. “Yes,” he muttered, peeling away only far enough to speak. “Yes, Yuuri.”

Yuuri was grinning and blushing, and Victor knew he looked just as ridiculously happy. It was okay though, because after all those years he had spent alone, he had finally found someone to be his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super special thanks to [Wishopenastar/Ari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wishopenastar/pseuds/Wishopenastar) for giving me the idea for the glass sponge. It couldn't be more perfect.
> 
> We made it! Not all the loose threads are perfectly wrapped up, but when is life ever that tidy. That aside, I'm hoping to (someday) add a few one-shots to this series, so if there's anything you wanted to see or had lingering questions about, let me know! I'm so grateful to everyone who followed along on this journey, and to anyone who comes along afterward.
> 
> I have started working on another long story (the sequel to Stay the Same (Change It All)), but it will be a while before I start posting because of busy-ness and a slow writing pace. If you want to be notified when I start posting, subscribe to my profile here or follow me [on Twitter](https://twitter.com/lexical_dreamer). I mostly retweet Victuuri art, post pictures of dragons, and occasionally whine about life. I hope to see you again soon! 💖💖💖


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